


Hello, Who's Your Husband?

by moonfishes



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: (but not really), Alternate Universe - College/University, English Professor Johnny, Humor, M/M, POV Outsider, Philosophy Professor Doyoung, Professors, Secret Relationship, Translation Available, gratuitous philosophy jokes, gratuitous romantic poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:21:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22453342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonfishes/pseuds/moonfishes
Summary: Donghyuck doesn't believe in love, but he does believe in gossip. So when Professor Kim reveals that he's married, Donghyuck takes it upon himself to find out who this Mysterious Enigmatic Husband is.
Relationships: Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Suh Youngho | Johnny
Comments: 190
Kudos: 1327
Collections: Johnny Fic Fest: Round One





	Hello, Who's Your Husband?

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文-普通话 國語 available: [【翻译】Hello, Who's Your Husband?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23477098) by [taCherie_tatie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/taCherie_tatie/pseuds/taCherie_tatie)



> Written for the Johnny Fic Fest, prompt #JS108: Johnny and Doyoung are college professors in the same university department. Although Johnny is known as Professor Overshare, Doyoung is very serious and tells nothing about his personal life to students. So, only a few students taught by both of them know that they're married with two kids.
> 
> I took some liberties with the prompt (e.g Johnny and Doyoung aren't part of the same department, Doyoung is serious but also a little sneaky and easy to tease), and I was also undecided on what kind of university type I should go for, so I've left the uni structure quite open--feel free to imagine it in any way you see fit!
> 
> Thank you, as always, to [punkrightnow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/punkrightnow/pseuds/punkrightnow) for the quick read-through and feedback; I couldn't have done it without her <3

It’s eight in the morning on a fucking Monday, and Donghyuck’s going to have to sit through an hour of Married Professor Bullshit.

Married Professor Bullshit is a very specific type of bullshit. Married Professor Bullshit is his English Professor—or, as he likes to remind his students, _Johnny_ —blathering on about his marriage for at least half of the class. Sure, a Professor being married is fine and all, even though it dashes his dreams of hooking up with a hot professor, but—

Johnny is not the _alright_ kind of married professor. 

Johnny is the disgusting kind of married professor. His marriage makes up about 99.9% of his existence—he’s never given a lecture without supplementing them with personal anecdotes about his husband and two kids. Last Monday, he told them about kid #1’s dentist appointment, down to the flavour of the special fluoride toothpaste that she chose. On Wednesday, he spent ten minutes rambling on about how good of a cook his husband was, and how he made a three course Italian meal as a surprise dinner for him. And then, on Friday, he made them look at John Keats’ _Emma,_ because ‘it reminded him of his husband and the beginning of their courtship.’ 

It’s ridiculous. It’s so ridiculous that it’s been the bane of Donghyuck’s college experience so far—why does his hot English professor have to constantly remind him of how not-single he is? His life also sounds too picture-perfect, and if Donghyuck’s learned anything from this Romantic poetry course, it’s that that perfection is impossible. What did that Blake guy write about again? Oh yeah, pretty dreams and angels. But these angels oppressed children and tainted their dreams with bourgeoise ideology during the industrial revolution, so case proven: nothing is ever perfect. 

Not even angels.

And that’s the problem with Married Professor Bullshit. These Professors try so hard to convince you that their lives are perfect that they don’t realize that they’re not fooling anyone at all. 

"It was his anniversary yesterday," whispers Mark, taking a seat beside him in lecture hall. Why does he know this? Donghyuck turns to stare at him accusingly. "What? I mean, he’s mentioned it a lot? Like, he must have mentioned it at least thirty times last week?"

 _"Ugh,_ " Donghyuck groans. "That means we’ll have to sit through an even longer recount of Johnny’s Personal Vlog today."

"I think it’s cute? You know, he obviously cares about his family…" he reddens when Donghyuck glares at him in disgust.

"An hour of Johnny talking about his husband’s dietary restrictions and his kids’ newest Disney obsession is cute?"

"Yeah," Mark mumbles. "I do think it’s kind of cute."

"You _take that back,_ Mark Lee! It’s not cute!"

"What’s not cute?" a new voice asks, strolling in from the big doors. _Johnny._ Donghyuck peeks up to look at him: he’s beaming, as usual, and wearing a light pink shirt that says _LOVE_ in big red block letters, as well as sneakers with fingerprints on them—must be from his kids. Donghyuck rolls his eyes and sinks back down in his seat. He’s so predictable. "Nothing, professor. Just discussing the cat emoji, that’s all."

"Ah." Johnny nods understandingly, as if he knows a lot about the merits of the cat emoji. "Well, that’s a fascinating topic, but who wants to hear about a topic even more fascinating?"

The whole class groans. 

"That’s everyone, then!" Johnny exclaims. "Well, as you all might know, my husband and I celebrated our anniversary yesterday night. We had to find someone to take the kids, because our usual babysitter was busy, which proved to be a challenge…" he goes on and on for another ten minutes before he wraps it up with an "and it was _magical._ My heart dances with the daffodils…" 

Donghyuck shudders. "Professor. The Romantics aren’t there for you to quote them in your daily life."

"On the contrary, young one," Johnny says, eyes twinkling, "they are. What’s the use of specializing in Romantic poetry if you can’t apply it to your daily life? Why do you think this is such an oversubscribed course?" Donghyuck resists the opportunity to say _because you’re hot, Professor. That’s why I took the course._ "Because we will always need the wisdom of the Romantics in our lives. Shelley himself said, ‘love itself shall slumber on’, and Romanticism will slumber along with it. It’s why I believe in true love, at least." 

Donghyuck contemplates shouting _LOVE ISN’T REAL_ out loud in class, just to see if Johnny would start shedding tears from the pools of the English vales, or wherever the fuck the Romantics got their water imagery from. Seriously, there’s so much water in Romantic poetry. Why the fuck is there so much water in Romantic poetry? He glances around the class to find any willing accomplices, but everybody’s eyes are trained on Johnny’s, enraptured. Even _Mark_ is listening attentively to Johnny. 

Ugh. 

Donghyuck pulls his hood as far up as possible. He doesn't have time for this bullshit. 

"Whether it be romantic, platonic, or familial love, love is an integral element of human life," Johnny continues. "Love is everywhere. Studying the Romantics helps us to find it."

* * *

"Can you believe him?" Donghyuck exclaims, after class has finished. 

"Huh? Who?" Mark asks. Donghyuck pokes him in the side. 

_"Johnny!"_

"Johnny?" Mark repeats, absentmindedly. "What about him?"

"Can you believe the stuff that comes out of his mouth? About _love,_ and trust, and finding the perfect partner?"

Mark flushes bright red. "I thought it was a really nice talk, actually. He said some interesting things…"

Donghyuck rolls his eyes. "Yeah, of course you would think it’s interesting."

"Hey!" Mark protests. "C’mon, that stuff resonated with every student in the room. Don’t tell me that you didn’t like any of it?"

"I didn’t like a single bit of it," Donghyuck says vehemently. "Not a single bit. I’m sick of all his talk. Why can’t he just shove us a text and make us read it out loud or something like that? Why does he keep having to talk about love? Someone should start a petition to ask him to shut up about his family."

"Whatever you say," Mark says placatingly. God, he’s not even _listening_ anymore.He’s scrolling mindlessly through the Starbucks app, fingers lingering over the one and only thing he’ll order during autumn. "Hey, uh… do you, uh, maybe want a—?"

"No, you basic bitch," Donghyuck says miserably. "Get your PSL. Then let’s go to class. Before Professor Kim gets mad at us."

They’re five minutes early when they arrive at their philosophy classroom, which provides Donghyuck more than enough time to convince Mark that Johnny’s love talk was Not Romantic, but Annoying. He’s so engrossed in trying to do this that he doesn’t notice their philosophy professor at the front of the classroom, silently unpacking his laptop from his bag and staring at Donghyuck with a raised eyebrow. 

"Donghyuck?" Professor Kim calls. "You seem very energetic today. Anything interesting to tell us?"

A sane student would mumble _no,_ apologize, and sink back down into their seat in embarrassment. Donghyuck should probably do that, but, well. He’s not a sane student. 

"Just thinking about something Johnny talked about earlier, Professor," he says instead, ignoring Mark’s whimper.

"Johnny?" Professor Kim asks. His mouth twitches. "You mean Professor Suh?"

"...Yes."

"What did he say?"

Donghyuck snorts. "He gave us a long talk about _love,_ and how it helps us become _better people."_

"Hmm," Professor Kim says, contemplative. "And do you disagree?"

"Um, yeah? And we all know that Johnny says that kind of stuff because he’s, like, creepily obsessed with his husband and kids. I’m starting to wonder if they’re even real at all."

Professor Kim looks amused. "I have it on good authority that they are." 

"Well, if they are, then that’s the only reason why Johnny blathers on above true love for the whole lesson. True love is overrated. True love isn’t real. Why should we care about love, anyways?"

"An interesting philosophy question," Professor Kim muses. "Shall we ask the class? Do you believe in love?"

Nobody responds. Donghyuck hears the squeak of graphite on paper from the back of the classroom.

"What do _you_ think, Professor?" he counters. "Do you believe in love?"

Professor Kim smiles. "Yes."

Donghyuck blinks at him, open-mouthed. "But you’re like, a nihilist."

Professor Kim stares at him for a few seconds before his face contorts into an expression of barely-suppressed laughter. "Firstly, what makes you think that? Secondly, why does that mean I can’t believe in love?"

"I thought you believed in some voodoo death thing? And that nihilists believe that everything’s dead? Like me. I’m a nihilist. Love is dead."

"Donghyuck," Professor Kim sighs. "That is not what nihilism is about. But anyways, yes. I do believe in love."

_"Why?"_

Professor Kim’s smile is small and secretive. "Well, I am married. Most people get married because they’re in love."

The whole class gasps. Mark stares at him, wide-eyed. A group of students immediately whip out their phones. "You’re—you’re _married?"_ Donghyuck splutters.

"Yes?" Professor Kim frowns. "Is that a problem?"

Donghyuck thinks about the occasional black nails, or the Harry Styles album that he once accidentally showed them on his computer. His fucking gucci belt. His balenciagas. Or his locked instagram account that Donghyuck managed to find through an hour of online sleuthing. "No, no, it’s not a problem," he hurries to reply. "I was just—Professor, are you _sure_ you're married?"

Professor Kim looks like he's trying not to laugh again. "Yes, Donghyuck. I'm very sure. My husband would be very offended if I said I wasn't."

Oh. _Husband._

"Can we go back to Socrates now?" Professor Kim asks, switching on the projector. "We can stop talking about love, because I know it makes Donghyuck feel nauseous."

Donghyuck scowls at his words, wrinkling his nose. "I just think it's _overrated,_ that's all."

"I thought that way too, as a philosophy student," Professor Kim muses. "You know, all that stuff about lofty philosopher kings and their true purpose. And then… and then, someone changed my mind." His eyes glaze over slightly, and Donghyuck can recognize that look from anywhere: it's the same disgusting look that Johnny wears when he's talking about his husband. 

Shit. 

* * *

"Why are all of them married?" Donghyuck complains to Mark, once Professor Kim dismisses them from class. It's lunchtime, and they're at the trendy little student cafe next to the English building, ordering a sandwich and drink that's going to cost most of their food budget for the week. 

"Not all of them are married," Mark points out, placing his order. "Just the ones you think are hot."

"Yes. Why are the hot ones married?" he whispers furiously. The lady at the cashier raises an eyebrow at him, and he raises an eyebrow back. It's none of her business if he's thirsting over married men, anyways. 

"Love?"

"Mark Lee, you know how I feel about that _love_ bullshit!"

Mark sighs, taking the change from the cashier. "Look, I know you hate love or something like that, but obviously they must feel something, in order to get married…"

"What they feel is a societal obligation. Love is a social construct. It's not real."

Mark stares at him. "I mean…"

"I am a _child of divorce,_ " Donghyuck stresses. "Love isn't real."

Mark looks like he's about to say something, but he keeps his mouth shut instead. Good. 

"And _Professor Kim_ out of all people!"

"Yeah," Mark nods. "I also can't believe that Professor Kim is married. He just—"

"—doesn't seem the type, right? That's what I thought. He seems so single. And he teaches philosophy. I mean, I like philosophy, but who would marry a philosopher?"

"I would," Mark mumbles, blushing. It’s kind of cute. "Oh, look, our food is here—let's go get it."

Over a ciabatta and a green tea latte, Donghyuck stews in silence. Mark looks at him anxiously. "Come on, you can't be _that_ worried about all this love talk, can you?"

Donghyuck takes a vicious sip of his latte. "I just don't want him to turn into another Johnny," he mutters.

"What’s wrong with that?" Mark asks. "Johnny’s nice. You like him."

Donghyuck does like Johnny, as annoying as he is. Even though he complains about Johnny all day, he’s a great professor when he’s not talking about his family. It’s just that the family talk— _ugh._ Donghyuck doesn’t want that in his philosophy class. He really likes the class, okay? He likes talking about death and morality and evaluating what makes a person shitty or less shitty, and it's going to suck if Professor Kim turns into another Johnny.

Mark sighs. "Look, you know what Professor Kim’s like. He’s never going to divulge any information about his private life. You’d have to pry it from him, and if you don’t, he probably won’t say anything."

Mark’s not wrong. Professor Kim is notoriously quiet about his personal life. Donghyuck’s surprised he even mentioned his husband today. There are individuals like Johnny, too open and magnanimous about their personal life, and then there’s Professor Kim, who’s the complete opposite: cryptic and tight-lipped, unwilling to share any information and all.

"I do wonder, though. What’s his husband like?"

Mark stops chewing on his sandwich to give Donghyuck a confused look. "I thought you didn’t care about that?"

"I don’t care about the love stuff," Donghyuck says. "But I’m interested in what kind of guy he would go for. Ridiculously charming? A quiet bookish nerd? A gym buff? What’s his type, you think?"

Mark resumes eating his sandwich. "I don’t know, and I’m glad I don’t," he says. "I’m not interested in his love life. What he does in the bedroom is none of my business."

"You’re no fun, Mark Lee," Donghyuck whines. "And you sound like a repressed Young Republican talking about gay rights and I don’t like it."

"They are our professors!"

"So?" Donghyuck grins, wicked. "They’re prime gossip material. It’s what most of the student body cares about, anyways. Don’t people want to know who our cryptid philosophy professor is fucking? Shit. Who is it, actually? I want to know. I’m going to find out."

"Please don’t."

"Why not?"

"It’s _such_ a bad idea," Mark stresses. "Firstly, I can’t believe I’m friends with you. Secondly, isn’t it creepy to be stalking your professor like that? What if he finds out? What are you going to do?"

"Chill out, dude," Donghyuck laughs. "His husband’s probably like some random guy who owns a bookstore and smokes weed on the weekends. I’ll find his instagram, he’ll probably be kind of hot, we can ogle over his photos and then forget about it. Wanna join me?" 

"Absolutely not," Mark says firmly. "You can dig your own grave."

Donghyuck pouts. "Fine. I’ll do it myself then. Watch me. I’m going to uncover this mystery, and everyone’s going to thank me."

* * *

First things first: research. 

Donghyuck goes back to Professor Kim’s instagram account— _kim_doyoung,_ how predictable—and wills it to miraculously unlock itself. No luck. He even tries one of those sites that say things like ‘100% Guarantee To Unlock Your Partner’s Secret Instagram Account!’ before he starts to hear Mark’s voice in his head and stops. That’s maybe a little bit too creepy.

Then, he tries searching up ‘ _kim_doyoung’_ in the google search bar, and he finds a public twitter account that hasn’t been used since 2014. There are only five tweets—one about the weather, and four about some prestigious academic journal that published his work. He doesn’t follow anyone of interest either, just their university’s twitter account and a few philosophy bots. 

Professor Kim really isn’t known as a cryptid for nothing, it seems. 

As a final resort, Donghyuck even tries to search ‘Doyoung Kim’ in an online phonebook but there are just so many Doyoung Kims. Doyoung Kim, 32? Doyoung Kim, 41? Doyoung Kim, 27? Doyoung Kim, 22? He can’t be that young right? But what if he’s a child genius who graduated early? Can you become a tenured Professor that early? Donghyuck has no idea.

"Are you done?" Mark asks, from the other side of Donghyuck’s bed. "Can we do our homework yet?"

Donghyuck slams his laptop lid shut, grumbling. "I’m going to find out who he really is," he vows. "He’s hiding something. I know he is. There’s no other explanation as to why he’s so hard to find."

"Sure." Mark’s voice is dry.

"Are you doubting me?"

"Not at all. I’m sure you’ll find out eventually. I just think it’s creepy."

Donghyuck rolls his eyes. "Yes, yes, stalking, police, obsession, blah. I know."

He decides to take matters into his own hands. During their next philosophy class, he asks Professor Kim himself. "Professor, I’m curious about your husband. What does he do?"

The whole class grinds to a halt. Mark tugs on his sleeve, distress written all over his face. But Professor Kim just looks faintly amused—it seems to be his default expression around Donghyuck. "Oh, many things."

"Like what?"

"He collects rocks from the Balkan shore and turns them into amulets of protection."

What the fuck does that even mean? "Uh, is that he job or something?"

"Oh, one of them. He also goes to Kathmandu every year to circumambulate the three stupas. With me, of course. It’s part of my research, as you all know."

Donghyuck can’t tell if Professor Kim is fucking with him, or being serious. "But what does he _actually_ do?"

"I just told you, didn’t I? Oh, something else: he also makes travel videos and puts them on youtube."

Definitely fucking with him. "So he’s like, a travel vlogger?"

Professor Kim shrugs. "Maybe."

This is hopeless. Donghyuck’s never going to get any information at this rate. "Alright, thanks, Professor Kim."

"If we can, let’s go back to the worksheet on the Socratic method, please. Donghyuck, maybe you’ll be able to uncover more information about my personal life through learning the method?" 

Donghyuck scowls. Who knew Professor Kim was such a sneaky guy? He spends the whole lesson with his hood up, ignoring Mark’s sympathetic (but condescending) pat and the stupid Socratic worksheet in front of him. He doesn’t like Socrates; he’s _boring._ He’d rather learn about someone else. Not some stuffy old Greek philosopher. 

"Donghyuck?" Professor Kim calls, during the end of class. "Can you come here for a second, please? The rest of you: you can leave."

Donghyuck shuffles up to the front of the classroom. "Am I in trouble, Professor?" he asks.

"On the contrary, Donghyuck, I admire your bravery," Professor Kim says, smiling. "You’re curious and you ask questions. That’s an admirable trait, and one needed in a philosopher as well."

Donghyuck grins back. "So will you tell me what your husband actually does?"

"Nope." Professor Kim smirks. "But I can ask you if it’s possible to take this note to Professor Suh—my laptop’s out of battery, and I heard you mention earlier that you have to see him after lunch? I have to dash out for a conference, so I can’t swing by the English faculty."

"Alright." Donghyuck takes the note and pockets it. Professor Kim probably won’t hate him _too_ much if he takes a little peek at it, right? He exits the classroom and dashes into a nearby toilet, fingers unfolding the little slip of paper. 

_Apologies._  
_Need lecture hall 2 (North campus) @ 10am tmr._  
_Possible?_

Donghyuck groans. That’s just some boring teacher logistics stuff. Nothing of interest there. He trudges to Johnny’s office, knocking on the door once he’s arrived.

"Donghyuck!" Johnny exclaims. "Glad you could make it! Come, take a seat. Let’s talk about your essay." Johnny’s the kind of professor who gives individual attention to all of his students, and he ensures that he has a monthly talk with every single one of his students about any English work they’ve submitted.

It’s nice. It’s one of the reasons why he can’t hate the guy. He’s a good fucking teacher when he’s not talking about his family. "Wait, I have a note from you. From philosophy."

"Ah, from Do—Professor Kim?"

So they’re on a first-name basis? "Yes."

Johnny accepts the note and scans through it, humming and making a note in his diary. "Alright, thanks, Donghyuck. So, about your essay…" Donghyuck listens attentively to him as he talks about something he found interesting in the essay, something about the pervasive theme of religion in Blake’s Songs of Innocence and Experience. He asks Donghyuck a few questions and makes a note of his answers, looking satisfied as Donghyuck answers all of his questions.

"Alright! That was good. Thanks, Donghyuck. You can go now."

Donghyuck nods and starts to pack up. But as he’s about to exit the door, he suddenly remembers his initial curiosity about Johnny nearly referring to Professor Kim as _Doyoung._

"Johnny?"

"Yes?"

"Do you know Professor Kim?"

Johnny puts down his pen and looks up at him. "Uh, you could say that. Why?"

"I was just curious if you knew, um, well…"

An expectant stare.

"If you knew anything about Professor Kim’s husband?"

Johnny blinks. "Well…" he temporizes. "Again, why?"

Johnny’s a cool guy. And a very chill Professor. And completely incapable of hiding anything from anyone. Donghyuck can probably extract some information from him. "It’s just that, Professor Kim said the other day that he’s _married,_ and has a _husband,_ and we were all shocked because he’s never told us anything about his personal life. Then I asked him about his husband, and he started saying really weird stuff about Balkan rocks and circumambulation, so I was really confused, but also kind of curious, you know? So I was hoping you could tell me something more about his husband."

Johnny blinks again. Donghyuck immediately hastens to add: "Wait, you know what, it’s ok, it’s not really that important anyways, you know? Just something I’ve been curious about, but forget it."

There’s another final blink, before a smile starts to grow on Johnny’s face. "Well, you’re in luck. Because I do know his husband."

"Really?"

"Yes. What do you want to know?"

What does he want to know? Donghyuck has so many questions. "Just… what is he like? What does he do? What’s his name? Does he have an instagram?"

Johnny laughs. "Well, I don’t want to say anything without Doyoung’s permission, but he’s ridiculously charming. And attractive." Donghyuck’s eyes widen. Now _this_ is gossip material. "He’s dark-haired, tall, and devastatingly handsome. Doyoung tells me he’s like a real life Prince Charming."

Professor Kim, who refuses to say much about his personal life, telling Johnny that his husband is a real-life Prince Charming? Fuck. Donghyuck’s going to tell Mark immediately. "He willingly told you that?"

"Of course! And my kids love him." Donghyuck rolls his eyes at the mention of his kids. "As they should. He’s a great guy. Professor Kim’s one lucky man."

Donghyuck feels much better now. This is so much new information. "Thanks, Johnny!" he chirps. "You’re a lifesaver!"

As he runs out of Johnny’s office to tell Mark the new gossip, it registers in his head that Johnny never actually answered half of his questions. Whatever; he’s too euphoric to care at the moment—he’ll follow up with Johnny on another day. He’s bound to provide Donghyuck with new information.

* * *

"I just don’t get what else you need to know," Mark says. "As you guessed, he probably does some weird shit and smokes weed on the weekends. He’s attractive, according to Johnny. Dark-haired, ridiculously tall… so you know Professor Kim’s type now. What else do you need?"

"I want to see his face," Donghyuck whines. "I want to see just how attractive he is. I don’t have empirical evidence, and you need that to make a conclusion, don’t you?"

"Depends if your statement is analytic or synthetic," Professor Kim says, stepping into the class. "Still discussing my husband?"

Mark shakes his head as Donghyuck nods his. "Yup. What does he look like? Johnny says he’s ridiculously attractive."

"Professor Suh is ridiculous and you shouldn’t believe a word that comes out of his mouth," Professor Kim says primly, although Donghyuck can see the tips of his ears turn red. "He likes to exaggerate. You are a student of his; you must know that."

"So your husband isn’t attractive?"

"I didn’t say that," Professor Kim retorts. He looks flustered for once.

"So…" 

"You’re not going to get information from me that easily."

Donghyuck sighs. "It was worth a try."

Class passes by in a blur. Philosophy has always been a discussion-heavy subject, so Donghyuck spends most of the time arguing with someone from his cohort—Jaemin, maybe?—about animal rights. He’s firing back at something Jaemin said about using animals, what the fuck Jaemin, when Professor Kim stops him, laughing. "That’s very interesting, Donghyuck, but it’s the end of class. And I’ve got somewhere to go."

It’s a late Friday afternoon—maybe he has plans with his husband. Donghyuck decides to take a shot. "Going anywhere special tonight, Professor?"

Professor Kim looks at him, considering. "Yes, actually."

"Where?"

There’s a moment of hesitation before he says: "My son’s ballet recital."

The whole class stops whatever they were doing. "You have a kid, Professor?" Mark asks, wondrously. 

"Yes," Professor Kim says, starting to pack up his laptop. "Two, actually. They’re good kids. Anyways, got to go." He dashes out of the classroom before Donghyuck can get another word in.

"I did not see that coming," Donghyuck mutters to Mark, who nods in agreement. "Firstly he says he has a husband. Next he says he has two kids. What’s he going to say next, that his mother is an A-list celebrity?"

"Careful," Mark warns. "You say that, and it’s going to be true."

"You’re right," Donghyuck says petulantly. "It’s going to be true. And then I’m never going to get an autograph, because Professor Kim’s never going to let me. He’ll let the whole class but not me. He’s mean like that."

"That’s because he _likes_ you, Donghyuck," Mark says. "Look, I still don’t like what you’re doing, but clearly he doesn’t care. He obviously finds it funny or something."

"He’s a masochist, isn’t he?" Donghyuck says miserably. "He likes to cause people pain. Wonder if it’s a kink? Yes, I think it’s a kink. It must be a hot topic in the bedroom… "

"Hyuck, stop that train of thought right now," Mark warns. "I don’t want to hear it."

"I just want to know what his husband looks like!"

Mark rolls his eyes. "You’ll find out soon enough. I know you will."

* * *

He doesn’t.

It turns into something of a game; Donghyuck will ask Professor Kim "Who’s your husband?" and Professor Kim will tell him stories of his husband navigating the Bermuda triangle, sampling chocolates in a family-run Swiss chocolatier, and living as a hermit in a Tibetian monastery. 

"How does he even have that much money?" Donghyuck asks, confused. "How can he travel the world so freely?"

"He took part in an international heist to steal a priceless jewel and made a deal with a multi-million dollar company that ensures visa-free travel all around the world," says Professor Kim dryly.

Johnny stops helping as well. Professor Kim must have told him something—Donghyuck’s not sure what, but _definitely_ something—and the only thing he can get out of Johnny nowadays is "he’s a good man!" before he changes the subject and starts talking about his kids doing ballet. 

It’s so frustrating. Donghyuck likes to think that he’s good at investigative work, but the only thing he can be sure of is that Professor Kim:

  1. Has a husband and two kids;
  2. Is an absolute bitch when he wants to be;
  3. Believes in love, which is gross and irrational. 



That’s all he knows. It’s like he’s stuck at a perpetual road closure because the sky decided to shit an asteroid in front of him, leaving him with nowhere to go but backwards. 

_I don’t know what to do,_ he texts Mark, flopping down on his bed. 

_then don’t do anything,_ Mark replies. _ur driving both of us crazy. Idk. maybe just STOP asking professor k about his husband when you know his answers are just going to rile you up?_

Donghyuck scowls. _But what else can I do?_

_idk man, tough luck haha_

_You are no help at all,_ Donghyuck angrily replies, and chucks his phone across the bed. He contemplates screaming into the wall of his dorm room, but decides that he doesn’t want to deal with management telling him to shut the fuck up later. 

Mark does have a point though: there’s no point in expecting Professor Kim to provide an answer. He needs to go about this task in a different way. Confronting the source won’t do him any good, but there are other ways to unearth information. Secondary sources, friends, other students… 

But who could possibly know? Someone who has class with him, maybe. A graduate student? Yes, a graduate student—professors tend to be less strict and formal with graduate students. Which graduate student? He doesn’t know that many, let alone any that are doing a masters in philosophy. Jungwoo? But Jungwoo pays absolutely no attention to the going-ons around him. There’s no way he’ll know. Jaehyun? Does he take philosophy?

He scrambles to grab his phone and text Mark again. _Help!!!_ _Who’s a philosophy grad student?_

_jungwoo?_

_Ik that, anyone else?_

_uhhhh,_ Mark types. There’s a brief pause and Donghyuck’s ready to give up before the three grey dots start to appear again. _i remember yuta saying something about wanting to be a professor, and he’s a philosophy grad student, isn’t he?_

He is? Granted, Donghyuck only knows him from major sporting events as ‘the guy who screams bloody murder whenever the opposing team scores’. He also sometimes just looks high all the time, which—oh, makes sense. Philosophy students are high all the time.

It’s worth a try. He texts a quick _thx!!!!_ to Mark and searches his contacts for Yuta’s number—he could’ve sworn he added it at someone’s party half a year ago. Where is it?

 _...why do you want to know about philosophy grad students,_ Mark sends.

Aha! Found it. _Academic question :))))_ he replies. Hopefully the smiley faces will ward him off. 

* * *

They agree to meet at a McDonalds, because Donghyuck’s paying and he’s a starving undergraduate student—he can’t afford that much, okay? He raises his eyebrows as Yuta orders a Filet-O-Fish— _who does that_ —but doesn’t say anything, because he needs Yuta to answer his questions.

"Okay, squirt," Yuta says, once they’re munching contentedly on their burgers, "you obviously have a burning question for me. Shoot."

"I just want to find out who Professor Kim is married to," Donghyuck says forlornly. "It’s giving me so much pain. Why won’t he tell me? He leaves all these clues, and then he shuts up and refuses to talk about it. It’s so irritating. I want to _know."_

Yuta stares at him.

"What?" Donghyuck says defensively. "It’s not creepy. I’m just curious. Mark says it’s creepy, but I’m just trying to gather information, you know? That’s not a bad thing, so don’t judge me—"

"Dude," Yuta interrupts. "Chill. I just—is that why you asked me to meet you? I thought you wanted to discuss taking a philosophy major, or something."

"Well, yeah, I kind of do, but finding out the true identity of Professor Kim’s husband is of paramount importance," Donghyuck stresses. "I need to find out before it kills me."

"Huh?" Yuta looks confused. "Do people not know? Is it a secret or something?"

"What, Professor Kim’s husband? Of course it’s a secret. Why else would he not tell me who it is?"

"Hmm."

"So you do know something! Tell me, please," Donghyuck begs. "Please please please with a cherry on the top?"

Yuta laughs. 

"Yutaaaa," Donghyuck wheedles. "I’ve poured my entire life into this operation. I’ve tried everything I can! I’ve searched up his instagram account, his facebook, even his linkedin—nothing! I can’t find anything! They’re either all private or provide no information at all. What should I do?"

"Have you checked Johnny’s facebook?"

Donghyuck furrows his eyebrows. What does that have to do with Professor Kim’s husband? "Johnny our English professor? Why the fuck would I do that, when he tells us everything about his personal life?"

Yuta shakes his head, chuckling. "You should search up his facebook."

"Why?"

"You might find your answer there," he says cryptically. "Ciao, loser. Thanks for the greasy burger."

Donghyuck shakes his head as Yuta leaves. He still doesn’t get it. Why would _Johnny’s_ facebook account help him find Professor Kim’s husband? 

_Yuta says I should check Johnny's facebook to find out who Professor Kim's husband is,_ he texts Mark. 

_johnny? what?_ Mark replies, before following it up with _wtf did you contact yuta and make him meet you so you could creep on professor kim??_

Donghyuck frowns. _stfu stop saying that and anyways I don't get it what does Johnny have to do with it??_

_idk man? maybe he's the husband?_

_DUDE._ Donghyuck angrily types. _Some plausible suggestions please?_

Mark doesn't reply after that. 

Later that night, Donghyuck decides to take up Yuta’s advice. He searches _Johnny Suh_ on facebook, and isn’t surprised to find Johnny within a minute. Scrolling through his page, he sees countless photos of shitty poetry quotes and his kids, which seems very on-brand for Johnny.

He scrolls down further. A picture catches his eye: the person in it looks familiar, but Donghyuck can’t quite discern who it is. Half of his face is obscured, but he’s beaming at the camera, pointing at the horizon. Donghyuck surveys the sharp curve of of his jawline, and the soft sweep of his hair. It looks like a more—a more _existentialist_ version of Professor Kim, if that’s possible. If Professor Kim was less rigid, less tied to academia. 

He peers closely at the photo. What if it is Professor Kim? Shit. It really does look like Professor Kim. Donghyuck keeps scrolling; maybe he can find a better picture of this mystery man in another post. He scrolls, and scrolls, and then suddenly he’s hit with a flurry of posts—

—of Professor Kim, laughing at the camera, his smile wider than Donghyuck has ever seen. There’s a blurry photo of Johnny staring at Professor Kim as if he’s the only thing in the world. Countless photos of Johnny and Professor Kim holding hands, grinning at each other against the scenic backdrop of the Himalayas, the Andes, the Balkan coast. 

How could he be so stupid? It makes sense now. They both have a husband and two kids. Professor Kim didn’t want to tell Donghyuck what his husband did because it would give it away. Johnny said he was tall and attractive, which, while very self-absorbed, is not untrue. And that his kids liked him, because of course they did. He’s their dad. 

He tracks the facebook timeline from at least ten years ago, where Professor Kim started popping up in Johnny’s photos, floppy-haired and gangly, to their marriage, both of them dashing in white, to when they must have had their first child. They look so happy, beaming at the sleeping baby in Johnny’s lap, and Johnny’s captioned the photo with _my heart is so full, with the loves of my life by my side._ He scrolls up, and sees the baby taking his first steps, saying his first words, going on his first trip. 

A few years pass with a click of his mouse. A new baby joins them, and then there are more photos, more birthdays and anniversaries and big events, and still—after all those years, they still look ridiculously happy together. Johnny’s latest post—one that Donghyuck paid no attention to earlier—is one of their hands entwined. 

_Happy anniversary, my darling,_ it says. 

Donghyuck’s heart clenches. It looks like _love,_ whatever that means.

* * *

"I ne’er was struck before that hour," Johnny whispers, his voice a quiet hush, "with love so sudden and sweet."

The hall falls silent; his words linger in every crevice of the hall. Mark reaches for Donghyuck’s fingers, and Donghyuck gives them willingly. There’s something so entrancing about Johnny reading poetry—something so beautiful in his confidence, the way his voice shakes and trembles with emotion, as if he believes every word he’s saying.

He probably does; it’s Johnny. A month ago, Donghyuck might have scoffed at this observation. Now, in the lull of the class chatter, it dawns on him that he believes it too: the suddenness of the narrator’s feelings, the unexpected sweetness of love.

Donghyuck shudders. His brain hurts, as if a zombie has gorged upon it, found it disgusting, and left it to rot under the throbbing hot sun. It pains him to admit it, but maybe Johnny is right. Maybe literature really is as transformative as Johnny claims it is. 

A door creaks open, breaking the silence. "Hello?" calls a familiar voice. Professor Kim. "Sorry if I’m interrupting, but I believe my class needs the hall now?"

"Oh—we’ve overstayed our welcome, haven’t we?"

"Yes. I’ve booked the hall for three-thirty," Professor Kim says, but he’s smiling. "But I believe you were reading a poem? Please don’t stop on my account, Professor Suh."

Donghyuck raises his eyebrows at Mark, who shrugs in confusion: Professor Kim is notoriously known for being very strict with time, and it’s surprising that he’s letting Johnny continue reading the poem. 

_But they’re married,_ a nagging voice in Donghyuck’s head says. He scowls. _It’s love. Of course he would._

"Okay," Johnny says, looking unsure. He clears his throat and starts again. 

"Her face it bloomed like a sweet flower  
And stole my heart away complete.  
My face turned pale as deadly pale,  
My legs refused to walk away,  
And when she looked, what could I ail?  
My life and all seemed turned to clay."

Professor Kim’s breath hitches, and he glances—almost imperceptibly—at Johnny, _wanting,_ before he schools his expression into something more neutral. Donghyuck swivels around to look at Johnny, who’s—oh fuck—staring at Professor Kim, eyes burning.

"I never saw so sweet a face," he continues,

"As that I stood before.  
My heart has left its dwelling-place  
And can return no more."

Professor Kim stares at Johnny, who’s still staring back. Donghyuck watches as they share a silent conversation, which seems to culminate in them beaming at each other like fools. Johnny’s always smiling, but it’s the widest he’s ever seen Professor Kim smile—his grin stretches from ear to ear, and his eyes flatten into curved disks. 

It’s ridiculous. It’s wonderful. It’s love. 

"Uh, Johnny?" a student asks, looking confusedly between Johnny and Professor Kim. "Don’t we have to…go?"

"Oh!" Johnny tears his gaze away from Professor Kim’s, scrambling to put away his laptop. "Yes. Let’s go, and we can pick this poem up again next time."

As they filter out of the class, Johnny turns and smiles at Donghyuck. "Hey, Donghyuck?"

"Yes?"

He doesn’t respond, just _winks_ at Donghyuck and leaves, that asshole. "Wait—wait— _Johnny!_ " Donghyuck calls, but it’s too late. He’s already gone. Fucking Johnny. Did he really have to fuck up his worldview and leave him there to suffer like that? 

Mark finds him at the entrance to the lecture hall, in an open-mouthed trance. "Hyuck!" he exclaims, rushing over to him. "What’s wrong? Did anything happen?"

"I don’t know, Mark," Donghyuck mumbles. "I don’t know what’s happening to me."

"Huh?"

"I’m having an epiphany," Donghyuck clarifies. "And I don’t like it."

Mark furrows his eyebrows. "I don’t understand."

 _"Of course_ you don’t," Donghyuck moans. "I don’t either."

He doesn’t know if he believes in love. Maybe not yet. But he can appreciate it when he sees how Johnny looks at Professor Kim: quiet and reverent, the expression of a man madly in love. 

* * *

"So," Johnny says, after he’s made sure that the kids are safely tucked into bed. "I’m glad to announce that Donghyuck has completed his quest to find Professor Kim’s Mysterious Enigmatic Husband. Lord knows why he even thought Professor Kim’s husband was mysterious and enigmatic in the first place." 

Doyoung laughs, putting down his book to face him. "You know that’s entirely your fault. You filled his head with talks of how my husband is a real-life prince charming who swept me off my feet."

"Hey!" Johnny protests. "I am! I did!"

"I distinctly remember that I was the one that did the sweeping, after you tried to ask me to dance with you and then puked all over my favourite shoes, you asshole."

Johnny climbs onto the bed, snuggling up to Doyoung. "But the puking led to something beautiful…"

Doyoung rolls his eyes. "Alright, Don Juan. You know that talk is why Donghyuck thinks you’re the most ridiculous professor to walk the earth, right?"

"I don’t care." Johnny reaches over to pluck Doyoung’s reading glasses off his face. "I’m ridiculous. It’s who I am."

"Mmm," Doyoung whispers, leaning into Johnny. He smiles. "God knows how I’ve been able to put up with you for this long."

"Because I love you," Johnny murmurs, confident and sure. "And you, me."

**Author's Note:**

> The poem that Johnny recites is ['First Love'](https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/50263/first-love-56d22d33757cd) by John Clare, just paraphrased: he recites the first stanza and the second half of the last stanza.
> 
> You can find me on twitter [here.](https://twitter.com/ofjulii)


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